I have a little problem. I'm addicted to cookbooks, food writing, recipe collecting, and cooking. I have a lot of recipes waiting for me to try them, and ideas from articles, tv, and restaurants often lead to new dishes. I started losing track of what I've done. So now I'm taking photos and writing about what I've prepared—unless it's terrible in which case I forget it ever happened.
To celebrate Mardi Gras this year, I couldn’t resist pulling My New Orleans off the shelf, and my first thought was to try the crawfish etouffee. Unfortunately, it’s not quite crawfish season yet. Sure, I could have purchased frozen crawfish tale meat, but then I would have no shells for making a shellfish stock which is essential to the dish. I decided to use Gulf shrimp and a couple of small lobster tails. As I started looking over the recipe, it occurred to me that I’ve never heard a good explanation of the difference between etouffee and gumbo. Both start with a roux, both involve the trinity of vegetables and stock, and both are usually served with rice. After some searching, the best explanation I found was that etouffee is almost always made with seafood and usually just one type at a time (clearly I cheated) while gumbo may contain seafood, meat, poultry, or a mix of any or all of the above. The word etouffee means smothered and the word gumbo is derived from an African word for okra, but both are stews. In the book, the crawfish etouffee recipe is regarded as the master recipe in which shrimp or crab can be substituted for the crawfish both in the finished dish and in the stock used to make it.
The first step is to make the shellfish stock which is very easy and requires relatively little simmering time. Browned vegetables, shrimp and lobster shells, and water simmered for about an hour, but I’ve also made shellfish stock in closer to 30 minutes. Once the stock is finished, strained, and ready to be used, the etouffee was started, of course, with a roux. The goal is to cook the roux until it's the color of milk chocolate. Mine was just a little lighter than that, but I really didn’t want it to burn. Then, chopped onion was added and allowed to caramelize before the diced celery, red bell pepper, garlic, thyme, cayenne, extra cayenne in my case, and smoked paprika were added. I thought it was interesting that Besh suggested red bell pepper rather than green. Next, a peeled, seeded, and diced tomato was added with the shellfish stock. The mixture simmered for just seven minutes before sliced green onions and the shrimp and lobster meat were added. Last, butter was added, and it was seasoned with Worcestershire and Tabasco and checked for salt and pepper. When the shrimp were cooked through, it was served with white rice.
Whether etouffee or gumbo or crawfish or shrimp, I really love this style of food and the flavors that develop as it simmers away. In this particular version, I appreciated the hint of smoke from the paprika. This one seemed a little less overly rich than some etouffees I’ve had. It wasn’t too heavy or too thick. The mix of shrimp and lobster was nice, but it was all about the flavor of the stew.
I’m trying to remember how I chose this oyster dish to start our Christmas Eve meal last week. There’s an entire chapter devoted to oysters in John Besh’s My New Orleans, and I wanted to make every single recipe. I believe I decided to try this one first just because it’s so incredibly easy and it wouldn’t keep me in the kitchen for long. The oyster gratin could also have been served as an hors d’oeuvre with the breadcrumb topping applied to each half shell, and it wouldn’t have taken much longer. The oyster and artichoke soup could have mostly been prepared in advance and would have been delicious. The crispy fried oyster salad was another option, but I’d love to get some Louisiana caviar to present that dish properly. And, that’s just some of the oyster chapter. The book is divided seasonally starting with crawfish and Mardi Gras dishes, moving on to feast days and shrimp season, then fish followed by summer vegetables and crab season. There’s a chapter for gumbos and one for Thanksgiving, one for pork since Chef Besh raises his own hogs, and a final chapter for Reveillon or the feast served on Christmas Eve. It’s a beautiful book, and I’m enjoying cooking from it.
For these oysters, the intention was to grill them to impart some smokiness, but I was too lazy for that. I broiled them instead. A compound butter was made with garlic, crushed red pepper flakes, chopped chives, thyme leaves, and lemon juice. Slices of that butter were placed on top of each shucked oyster in its half shell, and then the oysters were broiled for a few minutes until they started to curl. They went from broiler to plate to our mouths in minutes.
These were simply fresh, spicy, and garlicy, and I should have made a dozen or so more than I did. I can’t wait to taste them off the grill when I make this again. I’ve tried a couple of other things from the book including the fall greens salad with blue cheese and pumpkin seed brittle. The vinaigrette with sherry vinegar and walnut oil was nutty and lovely with the blue cheese and cayenne-spiced pepita brittle. Also, the green tomato and pepper jam was sweet, tart, spicy, and just what some goat cheese on crostini needed. I’m already looking forward to Mardi Gras and strawberry season and all the other reasons to use this book throughout the coming year.